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The clearing where we had camped the night before was empty. I could still smell the blood of the battle, I could see the patches of red and purple clinging to the grass, but nothing else was there.
In fact, if it wasn’t for the blood, I would question if the Lightens ever had been there.
“Ryndle?” my voice was a high pitched bark as I called his name, still scanning the empty fields for anyone. Any signs that they had even been there.
“Lyani?”
No one answered, it was only me standing at the edge of the trees, the pull that felt more like hope tugging me forward, leaving me no option but to follow.
Exhaling, I gripped my blades, having no belt or sheathe to place them into and took one step into the trees. The shadows swallowed me, the forest reemerging as though I had stepped a hundred steps and not only one.
Turning, the edge of the trees and the camp had vanished, leaving me standing amid the tall straight trunks below the shadowed overhang of the forest. Everything had gone.
It was just me and that pull.
“What the fuck are you playing at Ryndle!” I yelled into the thick foliage, a flock of birds taking off with a screech all their own.
Then there was nothing, nothing but me standing in the middle of a shadowed forest, that bright pull of some unknown magic pulling me forward. Into the dark.
Toward the truth that I had been waiting for.
Chapter 38
Elara
Aservant brought us a small platter of bread and cheese after all the tents had been erected, the massive canvas shelters glowing in spots of color over the field that had been chosen for us to make camp in. There were so many, the dull glow of color extending far beyond what I could see out of the tiny window of the carriage. Far more people were on this pilgrimage than I had expected. Either that, or all the Lords and Ladies and their finery needed tents the size of the small houses I had seen through the journey.
I hadn’t been outside of the walls of the Runturin since before my Catalyst died, and I didn’t remember much beyond the expansive prairies and forests; beyond the way the sea would sparkle in the sunset, the dark spots of the Qits floating far away against the horizon.
It was those pops of memory that had fueled my memorization of maps and the dream of escape, but now that I was on the other side of the wall, staring at extravagant tents and gold inlaid carriages and the endless forests and winding roads it all seemed too big, too impossible.
I shifted my weight against the side of the carriage, peering out the small window as I gave the Boy space to eat his cheese behind me. It was hard not to be awed at the beauty of the colors of the tents.
You could tell which tents had a fíra wielder, the color of their lanterns all jewel bright and flickering. It was a garden of color, of magic.
It almost took the bite off the chill that was starting to seep into the wagon. It hadn’t escaped my notice that we had been given the scraps of the servant’s dinner, or that we had not been given any blankets.
I had never been so happy for the layers and layers of fabric I was wearing right then. Worst case I would rip off some of these ludicrous petticoats and make a quilt or something for the Boy and I.
As it was, I pulled my cloak tighter around me, still watching the glowing tents, even as some of the lights began to extinguish. The tent in the center was still glowing gold, however, my mother, father and Batian all tucked in tight as the gilded light of the Ramal made the tent a beacon for them all.
They were so far away, they weren’t even watching us.
I wasn’t even sure they remembered we were there.
They just sat there, surrounded by the light of Batian’s magic. Magic I knew I had.
I placed my hand on the glass, the only sound my slow breaths and the buzz of crickets that had taken refuge below the carriage. Staring at the lingering lights of the camp, I focused on the trill of energy underneath my skin that seemed to swell and lull in time with the crickets song.
With each pulse I pulled at that power, letting it flow through me to my fingers, same as I had seen Batian do so many times before. I inhaled, feeling the buzz of it everywhere before I exhaled, trying to get that vibrating warmth to move to my fingers the same way the Boy had showed me in the training pit. The same as I had seen when I had run to the kitchens.
The power was in me, I just had to help it out. I had to find a way to control it.
Inhale, exhale, push.
Inhale, exhale, push.
Inhale, exhale… my finger sparked, white lights blazing from the tips of each finger and I jumped, sparks darting everywhere in the carriage before they fell to nothing.
